At the condo, we ride the elevator in silence, and she fumbles with her key when I hang over her shoulder in front of her door.
“You’re not…you can’t…” She points at me, then her door, and wags her head. I smile, ’cause I think we might’ve switched roles.
I lean forward and she plasters herself against the door, each breath heavier than the last. Our eyes lock as I step into her. She tips her chin up, wets her lips, and I turn the key in the lock.
Jennie tumbles backward before I catch her via a fistful of her coat. The look she hits me with has me thinking my jockstrap might be useful for more than blocking pucks.
“Night, sunshine.”
JENNIE
“Stupid…motherfucking…cocky…son of a goddamn bitch.” I yank open the drawer in my bedside table, rooting through the rainbow of rubber and silicone. “He thinks he can play me like that?”
A bitter chuckle escapes as I select one of my best friends: the womanizer, or, as I’ve affectionately labeled her, Ol’ Faithful.
“I don’t need him. I didn’t need him before, and I don’t need him now. It wasn’t even that good.”
I tug my jeans aggressively down my legs and climb on the bed, feet flat and legs wide as I fix Ol’ Faithful over my clit. I press the power button six times, cranking her right up to max, and my lids flutter closed as I sink into the pillows.
“Oh yeah,” I murmur, that little bud tightening. Everything feels ultrasensitive, tingly like Pop Rocks, and I settle in, ready to take myself for a ride. My toes curl as I climb higher, pushing that little hunk of magic closer, and my lips part on a moan as—
“Damnit. What the hell? C’mon, girl. You earned your name for a reason; don’t fail me now.” I hammer the button, desperate for more. More power, more friction, more, more, more.
But she doesn’t give me more, and what she does give me, quite frankly, isn’t enough. It’s always been enough.
Frustrated and desperate, I reach down with my free hand and swipe my fingers through my slit. I’m wet, so that’s good. Drenched, really. So I skip one finger and go right to two.
“Oh yes,” I moan. “Dual stimulation. This is what I need. So good. So perfect.” My hips lift as I arch into my palm. “Abs, abs, abs,” I chant. “He’s got great abs. And fingers. Oooh, and that tongue. He does wonderful things with that tongue. Yes, yes, yes.”
The feeling wanes as quickly as it builds, and I pump harder, faster, begging my body to work with me, to give me a release I’ve never so desperately chased before.
But for every step forward, I take two backward. Pretty soon I’m just miserably flicking it while I glare at the wall, an annoyingly attractive and newly arrogant man’s face smiling back at me, reminding me for the umpteenth time that the little object between my thighs can only do so much. It’s not those fingers that stroked me so meticulously, that tongue that ate me so savagely.
And above all else, it lacks the heat, the determination, the ferocity with which Garrett promised to wreck me.
All waves of pleasure die down to a gentle ripple, and I chuck Ol’ Faithful—new name required—across the room before I sprawl out on the mattress, defeated, miserable, and horny as fuck.
GARRETT
I fix my track pants low on my hips, choosing to forgo a T-shirt. It won’t stay on anyway.
Making my way to the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of water and wait, eyes on the stove clock.
I smile to myself when the banging starts. Loud and aggressive, like her, and when I leave her hanging a minute longer, it turns to slapping.
Eight minutes. Huh. I gave her fifteen. She’s always surprising me.
I unlock the door and pull it open.
I appreciate that she put her shirt back on to come up here, even if it is inside out. Her jeans made it back on, too, unbuttoned and hanging off her hips, and the long cardigan she’s added does a mediocre job at best of hiding this mess of an outfit. Those heeled booties she wore earlier didn’t make it back on her feet, but her puppy slippers complete the look.
Jennie’s scowl is particularly ferocious, cheeks rosy as she breathes heavily. She whips off her cardigan and steps toward me.
“I wanna play.”
CHAPTER 12
RULES? DO WE HAVE TO?
GARRETT
My back hits the wall with a thud when Jennie pins me there, her warm fingers and fiery gaze roaming my torso, leaving a trail of want in their wake, so deep, so hot, my skin singes.
She drags her tongue slowly across her lips before murmuring, “So fucking hot.” Her eyes flip to mine, the challenge there. “Keep grinning like a jackass and I’ll walk my ass right the fuck back out of here.”
I flip us around, hips pressing her into the wall, fingers circling her wrists as I hold her hands on either side of her head. Her mouth lifts to mine, seeking, hungry, so fucking eager. “You won’t go anywhere, sunshine.”
“Rules.” Jennie gasps as I bury my face in her neck, legs wrapping around me as I hoist her up to me. “We should set some rules.”
My tongue trails the columns of her throat. “Do we have to?”
“Carter would never approve.”
“And I don’t want to die at the ripe age of twenty-six. It’ll be our little secret.” I flick my tongue over the spot below her ear. “Spoiler alert: it’s not little in the slightest.”
“No sleepovers.”
“Excellent. You seem like a bed hog.”
I yank her top over her head and die a little at the lacy mocha bra, the pink rosebuds peeking out from behind the scant material. I want them between my teeth while she sinks her nails into my shoulders and cries out for more.
Jennie’s eyes are hooded and dazed as she watches me, starved, a desperation I’ve never seen before but vow to cherish for as long as I get to be on the receiving end of it.
I bury my fingers in her hair and my tongue in her mouth, swallowing her moans as I grind her against the weight of my craving for her. I’m gonna need to fuck her hard and quick so that I can start over and take my time with her. We’ve got all night.
But then she chokes out her next rule, the two words a garbled mess lost somewhere in my mouth.
“No sex.”
I chuckle. “Cute.”
“I’m serious, Garrett. I won’t have sex with you.”
My mouth pauses on her jaw and my hands still their kneading. I drop her slowly to her feet. “Are you a virgin?’
“What? No!”
“Then why won’t you have sex with me?”
“Because I…well, I’m…I’m just…” Her eyes scale the wall behind me as she aggressively twines her hair around her fingers until it knots and gets stuck. When I free it, she shoves the tip of her thumbnail between her teeth, nibbling.
Taking her hand gently in mine, I pull it away from her mouth. “Jennie.”
“It’s been a while,” she admits quietly. “A few years…or so.”
Or so. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I’m just…not really ready to go there again.”
“Oh.”
Heat floods her cheeks the longer she waits for me to say something more substantial than oh, and I’m trying, I swear to fucking God. Nothing’s coming.
The light in her eyes dims, and she steps away, picking up her shirt. I’ve never seen her so vulnerable before, and something inside me hurts at the sight of her.
“Forget it,” she whispers. “This was stupid. I knew you wouldn’t go for it. Why would anyone?”